


Asclepius

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 06:51:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spirk, slash. During the events of "Plato's Stepchildren." As a doctor, McCoy can only heal Spock's physical wounds. It's up to Kirk to do the rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Asclepius

**Author's Note:**

> this is like a "deleted scene" type thing I suppose. I forgot that the character Alexander was in the scene this fic is based on, so I reckon this takes place right before that scene and Alexander doesn't show up until right afterward.
> 
> This is also my first Spirk fic and I fear that its themes are probably very cliché by now in the fanfiction world. But my best friend and I have discussed the element of McCoy being the third wheel and that's what I was really aiming to capture in this piece.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Spock sat on the stone bench in silence. And he sat, and he sat. Uncertain about what to do, McCoy ran a second and third tricorder scan, reporting his findings each time and being answered with silence. As the minutes dragged on, he wished Kirk would let him run a scan on him, too, but it was no use and he knew it. He'd brought enough supplies but he was a doctor, not a psychologist, and he could cure neither Spock's strange emotional dilemma nor Kirk's.

_How hard it must be for you, Jim_ , he pondered, perhaps more able to relate to his human colleague, or perhaps because he knew— or at least was fairly certain— of the bond between the captain and the first officer. It had been an accident, the time he'd walked in on the two of them in the briefing room nearly two years ago, looking like they were in the process of unclasping hands. Had Spock been a human it wouldn't have seemed so significant, but he knew the way Spock ticked, and in a strange way, the thought of what he'd seen didn't surprise him.

In the cold stone chamber, Kirk continued to stare at Spock, and Spock continued to meditate silently. McCoy watched Kirk wring his hands and pace, and he wished that the headstrong fool would let him administer a sedative. The same went for that damn hob-goblin. As a doctor it hurt him to see them brood and torment themselves in their own unique ways. As a doctor he had the tools and the knowledge to at least give them some kind of physical comfort, or give them a hypo and put them into a calm, induced rest. But as a man he was powerless to force the choice on them. As a man he could only stand and watch his friends struggle to cope with the feeling of being repeatedly violated.

But that wasn't quite true, either. He had done all he medically could for them, and now all he had left to do was to leave them to help each other.

"Captain, I'm going to see about…" he gave up on making a formal excuse and instead met Kirk's stormy, aching eyes. "Maybe I can find some reception for my communicator..."

"Yes, doctor, that's fine," Kirk mumbled, dropping his head and continuing to pace as McCoy quickly shuffled through the chamber's grand entrance.

Outside in the corridor, he fought the fear that rose in him. He was alone now, and while he knew that the Platonians didn't intend in hurting him, he'd seen what they'd done to Kirk and Spock, and he wondered in his solitude whether he could endure what they had.

How long should he leave them alone? he wondered. How long would they be safe? In his absence would Parmen see fit to continue his torture on the men? If so, he wanted to be near them to treat them for whatever physical injuries they might sustain. Slowly, desperately trying to keep the sound of his boots against the marble floor as low as he could, he turned back and took a hesitant step, creeping back into the chamber, concealing himself behind a large, icy pillar.

Kirk had taken a seat beside Spock on the bench and placed an arm over his shoulder. His voice was too low for McCoy to make out his words, but between Kirk's pauses Spock firmly shook his head, until the captain's voice raised just enough for McCoy to hear him say, "Dammit, don't make me order you to."

At this Spock finally lifted his head and met Kirk's eyes. That steely gaze bore into him. McCoy could see it across the room. And then, without saying another word, Spock lifted his hand and slowly brought it to the side of Kirk's face, placing each fingertip in a deliberate pattern on the man's temple.

They were going to meld, McCoy realized. It made perfect sense. The strain of the emotion was too much for Spock to take, so Kirk was going to take it for him.

In that moment, even more than when he had to watch Parmen torment his friends, McCoy was incensed. The sheer cruelty it took to force a Vulcan to experience such emotions made him want to go find that damn telepath and wring his neck. Worse than that. No matter how he felt about Spock, he was still a doctor, and he knew both the physical and long-term psychological effects the forced emotion would have on the man.

And Kirk knew that too. That was why he leaned eagerly into Spock's touch, why he allowed himself to bear the burden of it in his place. McCoy was not the kind of man to throw around respect like it meant nothing, and his captain had certainly earned a fair share.

As their eyes closed and the meld commenced, McCoy wondered if he wasn't intruding on something very personal. It wasn't his place to witness something like this. But as a physician, he also couldn't just stand by and let them attempt it without his standing guard. If the meld should be unsuccessful, or if Parmen should tear them out of it right in the middle, there was certainly a risk of injury.

At the very least he felt tremendously lucky to bear witness to such a thing. Not many humans had the chance to witness a Vulcan mind-meld at all, and even fewer under circumstances like this. Silently wishing his crewmates good luck, he leaned against the pillar and watched.

Kirk's reaction was slow. Perhaps Spock was being careful to make the connection gently. But within a few minutes McCoy would see a tear rolling down Kirk's cheek, followed by another and another until it became a steady flow. His hands flew to Spock's wrists and his shoulders trembled with his gasping sobs. McCoy realized that it was the exact same kind of sobbing he'd first heard from Spock. The same kind of sorrow and fearfulness, like a lost child. Hearing it for the second time was as difficult as the first, perhaps even more so. From Spock it had been so bizarre and alien, but Kirk made it seem so much more personal and familiar. McCoy winced at the knot in his stomach, reliving Spock's misery vicariously again.

_If I had my way with Parmen, he'd regret the day he ever heard the name "Enterprise_ ," he swore to himself, wondering why seeing his captain weep with all the heartache of an anguished Vulcan made him feel more vengeful than he ever had before.

He wished they would stop. He couldn't bear to think of them both having to experience this. It occurred to him that Kirk's suffering was worsened from experiencing it the way Spock had, fighting himself through it all, wishing to die rather than be humiliated and punished by his own feelings. It was all McCoy could do to keep from bursting out of his hiding place and pulling them apart. It took all his strength to stand there as helplessly as he had the first time he'd seen the Platonians abuse them.

And then, just as he was about to lose his nerve, the weeping ceased. His cheeks still glistening with his tears, slowly a smile formed on Kirk's face, and the shaking of his shoulders turned from shivers and sobs to hesitant, tender laughter.

_That's right!_  McCoy recalled. Parmen hadn't only tortured Spock with sadness, but with joy as well. But that had come first. He'd only changed it to sorrow to make the sting of the blow more painful. Spock was doing just the opposite, McCoy thought.  _That sly green-blooded bastard! He must've planned it._

McCoy could feel himself smiling along with Kirk. As he grinned he could feel his own face tightening with drying tears that he hadn't realized he'd cried. Kirk shook so hard with laughter Spock could hardly keep his grasp on his face. The laughter echoed loudly in the chamber and McCoy feared it would draw Parmen's attention. Spock must've been aware of it, too, because it slowly softened and then ended.

As Kirk became silent again, Spock removed his hand from his temple and dropped it to his lap. The meld was severed and they gazed into each other's eyes for a few long moments as Kirk caught his breath. And then, just as McCoy was ready to return to them, Kirk sighed and reached for Spock's hands, grasping them in his own and holding their gaze as he pressed their fingertips together.

So, he'd been right after all. There was indeed a bond between them beyond friendship, and McCoy thanked his lucky stars for that. If it had been him in Kirk's place, surely he wouldn't have been able to take Spock's feelings. Of all the times he'd learned military protocol about bridge officers remaining uninvolved with each other, this was one exception he was glad to overlook.

He cleared his throat to announce himself and gingerly made his way back, keeping his eyes to himself as Kirk stood and wiped his teary face in some effort to look composed.

"Any luck, doctor?" he asked, folding his arms and perhaps trying to maintain what slight bit of dignity he still had.

"Sir?"

"Trying to establish communication," Kirk said. "Did you have any luck with that?"

McCoy shook his head, not quite sure whether either of them had any suspicion that they'd been watched, and even less certain about what he'd say upon being questioned.

With that in mind, he turned his attention to Spock, who still sat with his spine rigid, but looked significantly less troubled. "What about him?" he asked, sincerely wondering whether the meld had made any difference.

Kirk nodded in response. "He's a strong man and a fine officer. He'll pull through."

And McCoy was sure he could take his word for it.


End file.
